Monday, May 22, 2006

116. BYPASSING RUE DESCARTES - Czeslaw Milosz

(translated by Renata Gorczynski and Robert Hass)

I descended toward the Seine, shy, a traveler,A young barbarian just come to the capital of the world.

We were many, from Jassy and Koloshvar, Wilno and Bucharest, Saigon and Marrakesh,Ashamed to remember the customs of our homes,About which nobody here should ever be told:The clapping for servants, barefooted girls hurry in,Dividing food with incantations,Choral prayers recited by master and household together.

I had left the cloudy provinces behind,I entered the universal, dazzled and desiring.

Soon enough, many from Jassy and Koloshvar, or Saigon or MarrakeshWould be killed because they wanted to abolish the customs of their homes.

Soon enough, their peers were seizing powerIn order to kill in the name of the universal, beautiful ideas.

Meanwhile the city behaved in accordance with its nature,Rustling with throaty laughter in the dark,Baking long breads and pouring wine into clay pitchers,Buying fish, lemons, and garlic at street markets,Indifferent as it was to honor and shame and greatness and glory, Because that had been done already and had transformed itselfInto monuments representing nobody knows whom,Into arias hardly audible and into turns of speech.

Again I lean on the rough granite of the embankment,As if I had returned from travels through the underworldsAnd suddenly saw in the light the reeling wheel of the seasonsWhere empires have fallen and those once living are now dead.

There is no capital of the world, neither here nor anywhere else,And the abolished customs are restored to their small fameAnd now I know that the time of human generations is not like the time of the earth.

As to my heavy sins, I remember one most vividly:How, one day, walking on a forest path along a stream,I pushed a rock down onto a water snake coiled in the grass.

And what I have met with in life was the just punishmentWhich reaches, sooner of later, the breaker of a taboo.